The Dead (The Thaumaturge Series Book 1) Read online

  He waved away the thanks. “I just mean that, he said that if he hurt me, you wouldn't ever forgive him. He said that he couldn't risk it.”

  I shrugged again, waiting for him to get to the point.

  “Just saying,” Marcus said. “He cares about you a lot. That's good, I guess. For you, I mean.”

  “Marcus-”

  He smiled wistfully. “Sorry. I really am trying to be a good loser here.” He leaned forward suddenly and pressed a piece of paper into my hand, like he had the first time I had met him in my shop. I glanced down and saw a phone number scribbled on the paper.

  “Just keep this . . .in case things ever change, okay?” Marcus stood and I did, too. There was a beat, and then, his face set with determination, he flung his arms around me and gave me a spine-cracking hug.

  “I'm really glad I met you,” he said into my shoulder, and then he pulled back and headed to the door. He glanced back at me once and smiled.

  “Bye,” he said.

  “Bye.”

  I went to the window and watched him walked to the car and get in. Jim touched his shoulder and from the backseat, Shaina reached up to put her hand on his back. It was good to see, to know that he had a family that supported him, no matter what.

  Sighing, I put my coffee mug in the sink and went to get my boots.

  I was late getting to the store and my least favorite customer was waiting impatiently on the sidewalk, stomping her feet and blowing warm air in between her palms.

  “Hey, Misty,” I said, pausing in front the door. “I’m actually closed for inventory today –”

  “You weren’t here yesterday,” she said accusingly.

  “I know,” I said. “That’s because I’m doing some cleaning and inventory and –”

  “I’m sure that you can brew me a cup of tea,” she interrupted. “Now that you’re here.” She was a good foot shorter than me, her unattractive old-lady hair hairdo barely coming up to my chest, but her hands always looked too much like claws. Her teeth bit into her lower lip and when she licked her lip, her tongue looked, I don’t know – spongy. I swallowed a mouthful of spit.

  “Sorry,” I said, without making an effort to sound as such. I ease my way butt-first into the doorway, trying to block it but she gripped the handle and tugged it open. I considered shoving back, using my superior height and strength to knock her on her ass, but before I could act, she wormed her shoulder under my armpit and stepped around me.

  Alarmed, I hurried behind her, peering deep into the store. Nothing seemed amiss, no blood or brains or weapons scattered around. It appeared that someone had even swept. I huffed a sigh of relief, and I peeled off my coat. Misty bounced on her toes while I set my laptop bag down behind the counter.

  “The usual, Misty?” I said, not bothering to disguise my annoyance.

  She harrumphed at me, eyeing me with small, red-rimmed eyes. My gaze lingered on her for a second; she looked like she’d been crying.

  “Here,” she said, while I started working on her specialty blend. She could have made it in the convenience of her own home and saved herself a buck fifty. I glanced up as she dropped the morning paper on the counter in front of me.

  “Oh, thanks,” I said distractedly, and went back to measuring out tea leaves.

  “So sad about that, huh?”

  “Huh?” I looked up again, but she was staring at the paper. I followed her eyes to the front page.

  Upside down, it took me a second to make out the headline. The words sort of swam around. I dropped the jar, scattering tea leaves, and snatched the paper off the counter.

  “Dead body found in Heckerson trash bin,” I read out loud.

  “They said that she was exsanguinated,” Misty told me. She leaned in a little. “That means drained of blood.”

  My stomach felt funny. My fingers sort of tingled. I looked up at Misty, looking for any clue or accusation but she just stared back at me, her red-ringed eyes impassive. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but an exsanguinated corpse was bound to involve me somehow. Such was the state of my life.

  I looked back at the newspaper, and the words swam in front of my eyes into a gray and white blur. I thought of all the things that I had done wrong, and then I thought of all the things that I would fight to keep.

  I was so sick of dead bodies ruining my life.

  About the Author

  Cal Matthews is a Montana native, a lover of animals and the outdoors, and a storyteller at heart. Internet quizzes have sorted Cal into Ravenclaw.

  Come chat on Twitter at https://twitter.com/malcatthews

  Visit me at www.calmatthews.com

  Table of Contents

  Title page

  The Dead

  Copyright © 2015 Cal Matthews

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  About the Author